


X's and Oh's

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elementary School, Cute Dean, Elementary School, Gift Giving, Kid Fic, M/M, Mary Lives, Shy Castiel, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, trial and error
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since, Dean’s made it his mission to be the one, the only one, to make Cas feel like that. Special is the word he’d use, but the kids at school made it their mission to make that a bad word. And Cas is far from bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	X's and Oh's

X’s and Oh’s

 

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A holiday filled with love and heartbreak... and _love._

And heartbreak. Guaranteed heartbreak.

Dean remembers simpler times when his family bought a 60 pack of Batman Valentine’s cards (he’d shuck the ones with the Joker's face or Sammy would grind all his teeth before he turned 10) to give his class.

It was clever, really. Everyone would toss them into their brown paper bags without a second thought, saving him the humiliation—all except one shy boy in the back row.

Knowing it came from Dean made the boy’s heart swell like a sore thumb. He’d burrow himself into his nest of a desk like a prairie dog just to hide his cheekbones, ripe as hanging peaches. 

Ever since, Dean’s made it his mission to be the one, the _only_ one, to make Cas feel like that. Special is the word he’d use, but the kids at school made it _their_ mission to make that a bad word. And Cas is far from bad.

“I think that’s very sweet of you, Dean,” his mother tells him over dinner, a toothy smile gracing her already graceful features as she slices her meatloaf. “Cas is a nice boy. Most boys don’t do that for their friends.”

Dean squints through his broccoli. “Why not?”

“Well, some boys just aren’t as,” Mary stops, scanning the air for the right word, “ _expressive_ as you are, honey.” He can’t explain it. Her red lipstick smile hasn’t left her face, but she seems sadder somehow.

Dean’s fork slides roughly on the china. “Well Cas isn’t other boys, either.”

“Very true, dear. So what do you plan on giving him?”

The only thing that comes to Dean’s mind is everything. But with $25 in birthday money, he’ll have to settle for _mostly_ everything.

***

**February 8 th:**

“Chocolates?”

Dean’s face falls faster than water from a leaky sink. He was almost certain Cas would love a box of chocolates. After all, his hair is brown and messy like a Milky Way sitting in someone’s fingers too long, and who _doesn’t_ love chocolate?

But Cas’s face twists the same way Dean’s does when he eats something he doesn’t like. “Y-yeah,” Dean sputters, “I thought you’d like them.”

“Oh,” is all Cas says for a moment, tripping over his words like a stubborn shoelace: “Um, yeah chocolate is good. Thank you, Dean.” He offers a small smile, but not anything like the gummy ones Dean got before.

Dean blows through his nose as Cas sets the box in the sand and resumes swinging.

***

**February 9 th:**

Flowers. Everyone loves flowers. He confirmed it with his mom, who always used to get flowers from his dad. Chocolates go stale, but flowers are bursting with life and color and they also remind him of Cas.

He’s a little shaky approaching him. His mom fixed his hair. Instead of a neat wheat-colored Mohawk, his hair was pushed back with one of those combs with too many teeth and gel that smells like soap. He’s also wearing a tie over his normal clothes—blue, to match the color of Cas’s eyes.

Dean taps Cas on the shoulder. When he turns around, the carnations—a lighter shade of blue—fan across Cas’s face like the wind threatening to blow Dean’s courage.

“Flowers,” Cas states, eyes like an elevator, moving from Dean’s chest to his reddening cheeks. Dean manages to slow Cas’s swinging, so that must be a good sign, right?

“Flowers,” Dean repeats shyly, burying one hand in his jean pocket.

Cas takes a whiff of them then starts to kick his feet.

Dean’s left standing in the sandbox with Cas’s flowers as Cas soars through the sky again.

***

**February 10 th: **

His best friend Benny said to give Cas a bear. Not a real bear, a stuffed bear. He gives Dean one of his own and Dean goes home and has his mom sew blue buttons and makeshift angel wings.

“A bear,” Cas breathes. His long eyelashes reach his wrinkly forehead as he carefully, like a newborn reaching for his bottle, takes the object in his arms. Dean smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. “Did you make this?”

“Nah,” he replies, scratching his neck, “Benny gave me the bear an’ my mom put some stuff on it.”

Cas’s forehead is wrinkly but for different reasons. “Oh.” He pauses, loosening his grip on the bear. “Well thank you, Dean.”

Dean stands there as Cas walks away. He never thought politeness would hurt so much.

***

**February 11 th:**

Cas wants to fly.

Not just to have a superpower, either. That’s why he swings all the time. At least according to his mom, who’s his mom, so it has to be true.

So he buys a balloon at the Dollar Store after school. It’s in the shape of an angel, with white wings and a pink dress like the ones on girl’s restroom signs because, according to the cashier, angels are “for girls”.

Dean doesn’t go back to that store.

“A balloon,” Cas says, clutching the razor thin string.

Dean laughs at Cas’s fondness to name things, but mostly at his own nervousness, “Yeah. I mean, you’re always swinging at recess an’ I figure you’d wanna fly for real.”

“Balloons can’t make you fly, Dean.”

“Well, not _really,_ but you know what I mean.”

Cas frowns slightly, but like clockwork says, “Thank you, Dean.”

***

**February 12 th:**

Dean’s thankful for the day off school. He has three dollars left and absolutely _no_ idea what to get Cas.

Everything Dean seems to get him makes Cas confused or sad. Or both. Dean’s not sure. Either way, he hasn’t made Cas hide underneath his desk with happiness, so he considers everything up until this point a failure.

His bedpost shakes as he plops on his bed, staring into oblivion. What to get Cas, he thinks. At this rate, he’ll drill holes into his brain from thinking so hard.

His head slinks to the floor. Poking out underneath his bed is a box of old, unused Valentine’s cards.

Dean grabs a pen.

***

**February 15 th:**

Recess is cancelled because of a freak hailstorm, but that’s okay because it gives an excuse for the teachers to throw a Valentine’s party, like the ones Dean had when he was 6 and 7.

The only thing that’s slightly _not_ okay is walking up to Cas in front of the whole class.

Cas is sitting in the same messy desk three years later, thankfully still _above_ it, and that makes Dean’s heart slow a little.

When he looks up, green and blue mix to make turquoise and Dean almost forgets to hand him his latest gift. It’s full of horizontal lines and ink smudges, but all Cas’s eyes flicker to is _To: Cas_ and _~~From~~ __♥: Dean_.

Cas doesn’t grin or blush or burrow himself into his desk—at least not until _after_ he kisses Dean on the cheek.

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day doesn’t come with a heartbreak guarantee.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Stay safe and be kind to those who don't have a Valentine. Not everyone has the courage to be as expressive as Dean. (:


End file.
